There's a basement

Sunday, 15 May 2016

I am doubting everything all the time. It’s like a malware program process always running the background, I doubt whether I am going to be a successful at my pickup goals. Yeah, I am pretty sure about a lot of other things but I doubt if I am going to fuck enough girls from clubs within the fewest hours of meeting them. How insane can that fucking be.

First real nightgame

Yesterday was my first night at a real club, I should glorify it as my first night at real nightgame. In my posts I always rail on about how everybody is just a chick taking pictures for their fb wall to prove a point. Well that point stays, but after yesterdays night i just feel like going a little easy on people.

Now i think of it i didnt see many people taking pics in the first place. Also met a new guy, damn i gotta give it to him he was there solo and no even pua but still plowing through with chick advice of getting chicks. He wanted to buy me a drink, which i declined of course. Then we spoke to an old uncle with his sons from a nice arabic country i cant recall the name now, he gave us his fries and all.

Of the girls i opened i will not go into an fr here but it was so good for reference experience i loved it all. I know so much for the next time. And damn mumbai doesn’t have a good set of hardcore dedicated average puas who at least can hold a conversation. My partner yesterday was good, he is very good if i go by what he claims.

Living with Parents

They’re out now watching news after news channels feeding them rape, murder, corruption stories. It’s just a need for them, just like the daily little dose of alcohol is to most christian men everywhere. There’s lot of reality TV and comedy to in their daily tv diet, and what’s best is there’s that sprinkle of discovery animal shows from time to time. They’re good and smart people, if born in this day and age they would definitely be ahead of the curve compared to a lot other parents.

Living with them is not bad, they make life 70% easy for me. When I am in the house I simply exist, they keep me like how guys take care of the sexy chicks, they just exist there in the one piece and 3 inch mascara and the food and drinks keep rolling, i exist here between my laptop and kindle and my clothes are suddenly clean, there’s water in the fridge, everything is fucking clean(lot of fire ants everywhere though) and there’s chicken everyday just for my paleo diet.

But i can’t grow with them, no man can. I can survive better in the protection but not thrive. Half the time for some reason brain is just focused on what they must be thinking about me. I mean just the thought that they are in the outside room sitting and somewhere in their mind just thinking about me. I can’t emphasize the thinking part, just the awareness that they are there and I am a part of their ongoing thought process right in this instant, bothers the bejesus out of me.

Anxiety

Not a fucking instant is going by where pickup and approaching girls is not a part of my conscious thought process, it’s literally there when my sleep breaks off and i am there awake for an instant in the middle of the night.

I am literally literally fucking practising opening chicks and delivering talk exactly in the situation in which i was before with a girl. Something which i could have said before to change the outcome. The analysis never leaves my head. Style in The Game talks about how deep Tyler got into the game, . .damn.

I am listening to music as i write this and I find this song and play it, it’s such weird shit and and yet so much fun. That movie was about something totally different and they add a song to it about how awesome eggs are. And imagine the lyricist who sat down writing it. What was going through the mind of the first guy who got the idea and what about all those others who approved it and were on board.

This is giving me the art is an outcome of civilization boner now, because as i am reading will durant’s The story of Civilization, it made this point so succinctly.

Money

Spent 750 INR bucks for two beers last night. Fuck i thought game was all about fucking chicks without spending anything, lol. That’s still better than buying a dolled up chick anything.

I’ll just have to axe my weekly expense list to afford the 2 weekends I plan to hit the clubs and with my counter per day system which goes like 12k bucks phone used for 5years is 12k/365*5 = 7 bucks per day INR. So the 1000 bucks per week cost I expect at the bars, is 200 per day for the week, fuck.

So many fucking problems can be solved by just making money, my options are to look into a entrepreneurship and move abroad for better pay packages. Of course can always play the lottery, the dubai airport one is my fav. For some reason the thought of actually winning fucking scares the fuck out of me. I firmly believe putting $1million into most people’s bank account overnight is the fastest way to accelerate them on the highway to literal hell.

Of course I like to believe i am not one of those and the money will help me reach self actualization.

Also it’s simply amazing how i don’t think of money like i used to. So much of the need to make money came from the bluepill days of providing for a beautiful wife and kids. Now i believe the cute wife would be at work getting gangbanged in her office toilet and putting up online anonymous posts about how much she is enjoying it. If the posts go viral enough she might strike up a movie deal, become a millionaire, divorce me one evening and be getting gangbanged by five models by midnight in a five star toilet. All while the media tells me to shut the fuck up and accept that i made her unhappy in our wedding and pushed her away which made her vulnerable to the colleague’s dick in the first place.

And if there are kids left behind, the daughter would be here fucking hot dudesfinding herself by traveling around a lil and the son woud be doing something as follows.

I kinda approve more of what my lil girl would be doing.

And the fact that it can be 180 degrees vice versa is not something that makes me jump with excitement either.

I could get so used to this form of writing, where nothing has to be planned and i just go on with it.